Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 144676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
He was clearly not from this kingdom, but I didn’t want to waste time asking about his past. It didn’t matter in the present. Also, I had a feeling he’d say something unsavory about my nosiness.
For some reason, it felt like I was on a timer. It felt like I had to get the kingdom healthy before doom struck us. Again. I had no idea what form that doom would take, but I had a suspicion it had to do with the demon king.
“Don’t you have a gardener? I thought someone told me there was still a gardener left in the castle.”
“The gardener, he tends the everlass plants with the master. He has no need to be messing with no herbs for cooking.”
“Right. Well, I’ll need some starter sprigs from you. I’ll be creating a larger herb garden for elixirs and whatnot.”
“Listen here, honey. I no answer to you. If you want starter sprigs or whatever, you ask the master—”
He cut off as I leaned toward him, a few inches taller and a whole lot meaner. I dropped my voice and upped my menace.
“I will take what I need, and I’ll do it as I need to. Do we understand each other?”
He turned a little and pulled his arms up, as though my words were poisonous darts and he was trying to protect his chest. He didn’t answer. Not that I’d expected him to. I gave a last look at the herbs and headed out to the everlass field. I’d plant an herb garden in the queen’s garden so everything was in the same spot. There was no sense wandering all around the castle trying to keep everything watered, when I could do it all in the one place. She’d had space for it anyway, I seemed to recall.
The everlass shed was clean and immaculately organized. Leaves had been set out to dry, and a cup sat in the middle of the first worktable, halfway full. I picked it up and smelled it. The nulling elixir, I’d know that scent anywhere. Cold, though. Old. It wasn’t good anymore.
I turned toward the door to toss out the contents and jumped. My hand jerked, and liquid sloshed over it.
Nyfain stood in the doorway, watching me. The guy was incredibly light of step for having such a big frame.
“Hey,” I said with a shaky release of breath.
“Well?” he asked, clearly still in a shit mood.
I ignored it. “It’s great. It’ll definitely work. This batch is old, though. It does best when it’s fresh.”
“It’ll work…meaning it’s not quite right?”
I brushed past him and poured the contents out. I set the cup in the wash station and looked over the spread-out leaves. “When were these dried?”
He walked up behind me, pointing at the first batch. “At dawn to try that out…” He pointed down the way. “In the evening.”
“Great. And you’ve collected the other ingredients?”
“Yes, but we’ll need to start a larger herb garden if we plan to make a lot of this. I can also ask the villages to supply me with what we need.”
“I already told your grumpy cook that I’d be taking sprigs for my own garden, and yes, the villages’ help would be good to get us started.” I looked at the cold ash below the cauldron in the corner. “How do we intend to transport all of this?”
“I am having a staff member create a harness fit for a dragon so that I can transport large quantities. Was mine not quite right?”
He clearly wasn’t going to let it go. “Yours would be great for almost all cases. But it was a little acidic smelling, which likely means you didn’t grind the leaves enough. It’s almost there, and it’ll work, but for the toughest of jobs, it’ll fall short. It won’t hold someone back from the beyond. Don’t take it personally—most of the people making the elixir can’t do it as well as you did, and they’ve been attempting for years.”
He grunted but didn’t otherwise comment.
I familiarized myself with all the supplies. “Given the distance you’ll have to travel…the elixir is going to lose potency anyway. We’re fighting an uphill battle.”
“Can you find a workaround?”
I sighed and sagged against the table. “I’m going to have to, right? People are dying.”
He slid his hands over my shoulders, kneading the tense muscles. “At this point, anything will help. What about that potion for blocking succubi and incubi magic?”
“It’s a draught, not a potion. Potions are stronger, temperamental, and require faerie magic. Luckily, draughts are incredibly hardy, so preparing that to travel is no problem. Hadriel implied that the one I gave you to pass on didn’t fully work. I need to make it stronger. The demons in my village weren’t packing the same power.”
Suddenly I felt incredibly overwhelmed, but he continued to knead my shoulders, his touch comforting me.